


Dumb Luck

by justthehiddles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff, It is America's ass, Just target practice, Mutual Pining, Reader checks out Steve's ass, Recruit reader, Steve is sweet, guns are involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 07:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: As a new recruit for Stark, you never thought you would meet Captain America.  Yet here he is.  During the course of your training, you develop a crush on Steve, but does he feel the same?





	Dumb Luck

Dumb luck. That is what it was. It wasn’t skill or merit. The only logical explanation for how you became a trainee for the elite ops squad with Stark Industries was luck. Ever since the fiasco with S.H.I.E.L.D., Stark was the leading employer of those looking for ops experience. “Wow, they must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel with this lot,” the training instructor commented to the weapons tech as he surveyed the lot of the latest recruits.

It was a motley crew. With Hydra and what not, recruitment was tough. No one wanted to die in an unwinnable war. However, loyal and patriotism dedicated you to the cause and at the first opportunity you signed up, ignoring the words of caution from family and friends. You should have listened to them.

“Most of you will not to make out of this program,” the instructor bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls of the indoor shooting range, “But you have a chance, so let’s show us what you got.”

He walked away in disinterest, leaving you and your fellow recruits to begin target practice. In front of you was a handgun and rifle. You picked up the rifle, adjusting the sight before squeezing off several rounds. You hit the target in a small grouping just below the bullseye.

“Not bad, Y/L/N. There may be hope for you yet.” the weapons tech remarked behind you. “Now let’s look at how you do with a pistol.”

You set down the rifle and picked up the pistol, hoping the tech didn’t catch your shaking hands. It was heavy in your hands and you struggled to find a comfortable grip. 

“Here–let me show you how to hold that thing before you hurt yourself…” an imposing voice came from behind you.

You turned to meet the gaze of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. You prevented your jaw from dropping on the floor, but just. He was as tall as he seemed on TV and if even more handsome. You muttered something unintelligible.

“May I?” he gestured to the pistol.

You handed it over speechless. Steve took the pistol and placed it in the palm of your left hand. He placed his hand over your right one, putting it on the other side of the grip, making sure your hand was out of the way of slide.

“Like this, see? It’s easy.” He leaned over you and you felt his heat radiating against your back. 

You attempted to slow your breathing and keep from melting back into him. You smelled his aftershave and cologne. It was heady and intoxicating.

“Now squeeze off a few shots,” he continued as he stepped back to observe your shooting.

You took several deep breaths and took aim before shooting off five rounds. Your grouping was not as tight as your first set, but was still well within acceptable ranges.

“Nice job, Ace.” Cap slapped you on the back before heading out of the range. You stared as he walked out, admiring the view. 

“Somebody has a crush.” you heard someone nearby sing-songed as you blushed.

-

A month passed, and you kept your wits about you enough to graduate the program. It had not been without distraction. More than once, you spied Steve in the hallways. Your eyes lingered on his body until he would turn to look at your and then you would avert your eyes to the posters on the walls. You couldn’t help yourself; he was so handsome. You knew you never stood a chance but it didn’t keep you from looking and fantasizing.

Several of the other graduates celebrated at a local bar. You joined them in revelry, nursing a beer for most of the night. As the night wore on, more and more of your colleagues took off either for home or other celebrations. It was only you left at the bar, still nursing the same beer. Chugging down the remaining quarter of now warm beer, you motioned to the bartender for the tab.

“I see you.” a familiar voice came from the corner of the bar. You spied Steve in the corner, sipping on a beer, not spotting him there earlier.

“I beg your pardon?”

Steve swallowed the last of his drink before standing to walk towards you. 

“I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” he continued, stopping until the two of you were shoulder to shoulder.

“I… I… don’t know what you are talking about.” stuttering you looked anywhere else but at him. 

“Oh, come on, Ace,” he stated, using his nickname for you from that day at the shooting range, “the stares in the hallways, the sudden interest in employee posters on the wall. It’s obvious.”

“What is?” you swallowed hard, fearing what would happen next.

Steve circled around your bar stool, caging you in with his massive arms, forcing you to look into his blue eyes.

“You have been checking out my ass.” He smiled.

You coughed.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Really? You haven’t? Well, that’s too bad.” He sounded disappointed but you noted a glimmer in his eye.

“Why?” 

“Because I have been checking yours out, sweetheart.”

Words failed you which Steve took as an opportunity to close the remaining distance between the two of you, his lips crashing into yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, never wanting it to end. Steve pushed back, smiling down at you.

“I’ll take that as a yes you’re interested. Want to go back to my place?”

You smiled back and nodded.

The two of you settled up your tabs before Steve grabbed your hand to lead you out and you could not believe your dumb luck.


End file.
